Answering the "Why?"

He stared right into my eyes.  I could tell he was trying to hold back the emotion and pain, but it showed all the same.  

“Why?  I need you to tell me why you get up everyday and choose to do this over and over again? Why don’t you just throw in the towel? Why don’t you close this place? Why do you choose to keep facing the risk, the suffering, the loss?  Why?”

It was a loaded question.  He knew it, and we knew it. There was no right answer, but he was desperate to find one.  It was too much.  He was seeing the enemy win too many battles.   He was starting to lose hope and without hope, he knew there wasn’t much left.

I knew what my husband’s answer was going to be.  I knew because it’s the very essence of who he is.  

He calmly responded, “Because I know to Whom I belong. I know my God.  He has been faithful to me these 40 years.  I know He will meet me and us in our need.  He ultimately will always have the victory. Just as David listed all the attributes of God, I too have my list of all the times, big and small, that God was faithful.  I do it because I know God asked me to, and if He is the one Who asked me, He also will see to my every need.  This place, these children, my country, they all belong to Him anyway.  I can trust Him because I have seen His hand.”

For my husband, the answer was easy.  He has known the pangs of real hunger from days without real food not just the ones of a spiritual fast or a forgotten meal.  He knows the loss of a parent both through death and even for a period of time, through the awful circumstances of life. He has known rejection and betrayal and disappointment.  He has been without and he has experienced abundance.  He has known both immense pain and immense joy.  He has seen both the worst of man and the best.  So for him, He understands that God is His all because He has literally been his All for the 40 years of his life.  

I smiled at his profile and squeezed his leg underneath the table.  What a gift it was having this steady, faithful man as my husband.

It was my turn now, though, and I knew really the man who had asked the question was waiting the most for my answer.  He knew I had another home thousands of miles from this one. He knew I had a loving family somewhere else.  He knew that I had other opportunities.  He knew that I could have chosen a path that wouldn’t have been pain free but certainly would have been less wrought with the struggle, the grief, and the pain of this one. 

I swallowed hard and decided to just tell him the truth.

“For me it is harder.  I find that I live most days somewhere between wanting to trust God with all my heart and also the fear that is never far behind all of the ‘what if’s.’ As my husband said, I KNOW that I can trust God.  I have seen His hand as well.  He has been so faithful to us.  But, I am also scared.  I am scared of what He is going to ask me to do next.  I am scared that it will be too much for us or mean too much sacrifice or loss for my family or me.  On the really hard days, I may not physically have my bags packed but mentally I do.  I rehearse my speech for why we should leave. I still mourn the dreams never realized and all I left behind.  

The truth is I am often afraid…but I also can’t turn back.  I can’t be the Sara I was 17 years ago.  I can’t unsee what I have already seen.  I can’t ignore what I now know.  I wrestle with the question over and over of why I had so much when others have had so little.  Why did I get wonderful, loving parents?  Why did I get white skin and a beautiful suburban home?  Why did I get to hear about Jesus when I was young enough to skip the typical rebellious teenage years?  Why was I born in the US?  I also have a lot of ‘Why’ questions, and I have only come up with one answer.

So I can give.  So I can pour myself out.  So I can be that drink offering that Paul talks about.  There are too many people already in this world choosing to look away because it’s too hard or too scary. There are too many who would rather be safe and comfortable than risk pain or suffering for the sake of those that have little to nothing.  This world doesn’t need more comfort.  We need more people willing to risk for the sake of their neighbor.  

You ask me, ‘Why do I keep choosing this?’ Because God asked me to. Because I can’t go back.  I have seen too much now.  I am different.  And at the end of the day, I WANT to be a part of God’s plan.  I am privileged to be a part of these kid’s lives.  It’s terrifying sometimes.  I absolutely feel ill-equipped 99% of the time.  But God is faithful, and I want to obey His call.”

I looked around the table as I finished talking and there were tears.  Tears not because anything I said was especially profound but because they knew it was true.  They were struggling hard.  The pain was too great.  The cost was too high.  They were losing hope.  Satan was winning the battle.  But in that moment, all together, we stopped and we prayed.  We filled that room with our tears and our cries for answers. We asked God to bring victory when with our human minds we only saw defeat.  We asked for more of His Presence and His Power and His Favor and His Strength.  

We went to battle.  Not today Satan.  You aren’t winning this one.

******************************************************

I never wanted to be a missionary.  I fought God hard for a good several years about it. I told Him over and over that He picked the wrong girl.  I had a plan, and it didn’t include another country.  It didn’t include leaving my family and saying goodbye to my life and my dreams and my friends.  I didn’t want to save the world.  I wanted a simple life.  Basically I wanted the same life my parents had and had given me (with the exception of a few more kids because I was always a little salty that they only had 2). 

I never would have dreamed 17 years ago that this would be my life, and if I am being totally transparent, if I would have known at the time, I probably would have tried fighting harder or never stepped on the plane to come to Guatemala in the first place.  If I battle fear now, its nothing compared to the fear that regularly reared its ugly head in my late teens and early twenties.  I would have been scared out of my mind and would have gone running in any other direction besides this one.

But that is the thing about God.  There is a reason He doesn’t lay out the whole picture right from the start.  He knows it would feel too big or too hard or too lonely or too scary.  He only asks us to be obedient in each step, and as we are obedient, He also over and over again continues to prove Himself more than faithful.  We see Him whisper soft words when we need guidance. We see Him part waters when we need favor.  We see Him calm the storm when we feel like we can’t go on.  

We say yes.  He sustains us all the way.

As my husband said, He knows His Father and he knows that He is so very good.

And you want to know the very best part?  

The best part is it is ALWAYS better than we think it is going to be anyway.  It may also be harder.  This is true. It may cost more than we want to pay at times.  But it is also sweet and good and rich and wonderful.  It’s a railroad track lined with both hard and good simultaneously.  

If I hadn’t of said yes and if I didn’t continue to say yes, I wouldn’t know the joy of hearing “Sarita!!” a dozen times a day. I wouldn’t know the depth of the love I could feel for girls that I didn’t birth from my body but are as near to my heart as daughters could ever be.  I wouldn’t know the equal parts grief and blessing to hug a biological mother as she has to say goodbye for another month to her children…grieving not getting to be with them but also knowing that she still has steps to take in order for her home to be safe place once again for her babies.  I wouldn’t know the richness of seeing the impossible become possible.  I wouldn’t have seen the miracle of healing over and over again in the lives of children…the sensation of hearing the doctor say, “ I have never seen anything like this!” 

If I hadn’t of said yes, I wouldn’t have my beloved first-born son or even the other two for that matter.  I wouldn’t know my husband and experience his steady, faithful, immense love for Jesus and for me and our family. 

Yes, this life is hard.  Yes I feel scared many days.  I may always walk that line between fear and trusting God.  I have set up my Ebenezer stones along the way, and yet somehow I still fall into the trap of wondering if the next thing God asks of me will be more than I can bear.  Will I have the strength to cross the river?  Will I have the ability to withstand the battle?

But the answer to the “Why” will always be the same. 

Because saying Yes to God is always the right decision. Because I don’t want to miss out on one second of all He has prepared for us.  I don’t want to go back.  I don’t want to close my eyes.  I want to see and taste and hear all the goodness He still has in store for those who love Him.  And because I want to see with my own eyes and continue to experience first hand the joy that comes with seeing vulnerable children and broken families finally drink from the living water that is Jesus Christ. 

What is the yes God is asking of you?

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When It Is No Longer Enough

Hello little corner of the Internet…

It sure has been a while.  I honestly wasn’t sure if I would even remember my password to get into this blog, but thank you Safari for remembering for me.  I heard recently that blogging and blogs in general are dying. You have to have a fancy website and a relatively large platform for anyone to even take the time to read anything you write.  This may be true.  I have no idea.  I don’t really care anyway.  

The truth is the reason I have abandoned the blog has way more to do with not knowing how to stay truthful and vulnerable without passing into “oversharing” than whether or not anyone is reading this.  I only ever wrote as an outlet to share what God was doing in my personal life and in my ministry here in Guatemala, so I figured the ones that wanted to read it would, and those that didn’t, wouldn’t.

No.  My problem was and still is I want to tell the truth.  I don’t want to sugar coat the hard stuff or gloss over the pain.  I want to say the things that sometimes make us uncomfortable, and I want to be honest about my own struggles as well. At the same time, though, I don’t want to fall into the trap of thinking that the whole world has a right to know everything in the name of “vulnerability” and that being self-deprecating is not only cool but a necessary way to get people to read our stuff. 

No thanks.  

I still don’t have the answer to my dilemma, so until I do, I imagine my blogs will still be sporadic at best.

Today, though, I need to share something that has been bubbling for sometime.  Because I KNOW that I am not the only one struggling with this.  And I am CERTAIN that someone else needs this reminder.  

It’s been a little over 2 years since our lives were totally changed, and Hubs and I took over as directors of our ministry here in Guatemala.  Those that walked with us during that transition know that it not only came as a complete surprise, but also that it was a very difficult season for us personally, spiritually, and professionally. I think most people assume that finally get to be at the top of the ministry you have served and loved for over a decade would be the icing on the cake, but for us it was hard.  It was sad.  We experienced hurt.  We walked through new emotions like feelings of abandonment and betrayal.  We often felt confused, scared, and inadequate. 

It will forever be one of those seasons that leaves its mark on us forever.  

One thing that we learned for sure, though, is that God is faithful.  He is perfect.  And He is a good, good Father.  

So while a lot of healing had to happen in our hearts and at times even with others, God was and continues to be faithful.  He continued to awe and surprise us at every juncture, reminding us that we weren’t in this alone and that He was ultimately the One in charge. We only needed to continue to obey and say YES as He continued to call us out into more unfamiliar and at times rough waters.  

A couple of weeks ago, though, I had another one of those time stands still, mark this moment kind of experiences.  Without sharing all the intimate details, I will say that it involved one of my children sharing some very honest feedback with a trusted adult about me.  It came from a place of love and not of hurt or even anger, but the root of what was being shared was that my children felt like they had a Mama that was either too busy/absent doing her ministry work or was physically present in the home but impatient, frustrated, and often resorting to things like yelling and losing her cool.   Praise God that this trusted adult loves my children and me enough to speak honestly with me about this conversation because otherwise I never would have even known.

But let me say it was one of the most painful and humiliating experiences of my life.  It wrecked me.  I felt devastated, worthless, like a failure.

Unfortunately, though, life doesn’t actually stop and time doesn’t really stand still when we are confronted with these kind of life changing moments.  So while internally, I was trying to come to grips with this revelation, I didn’t actually have time for 2 more days to really process and grieve what I had heard. 

Nevertheless, when the floodgates finally opened, they opened, and I wept like I hadn’t wept maybe ever.  It was the kind of grief that I have only experienced when I have lost a loved one.   Even physically I was wrecked, as it was followed by a migraine and vomiting.  The problem for me at the time was I couldn’t even put words to what I was experiencing.  What exactly was I crying about?  Why did I feel as if I was mourning someone or something?  I didn’t know.  All I knew was that hearing that my children felt that way had confirmed all my worst fears about being in full-time ministry.  

And I just didn’t know what to do!  “Do I quit my job?  Do I stay home with the kids full time?  Do I pull back my hours?  God what do I do?????  Please just tell me what to do!”  These were the only muffled words I could articulate over the next few hours. (Praise Jesus my kids were at school, so I could do all this in the privacy of my home by myself.)  

I honestly don’t know what Jacob felt like as he wrestled with God, but that is the closest picture I can use to describe what that morning felt like for me.  About 5 hours into this battle or struggle or grieving process (I still don’t have a name for it), my husband sends me a text.  

“My lady, I just got this text from C.  She said that during a time of prayer and intercession this morning, God laid this word on her heart for you.”

Now before I share with you what she said, I need to clarify that I have only met C. a handful of times.  We have never had an actual one on one conversation and have only been in each other’s presence in a large group of people.  She has worked with Hubs organizing a few activities for the kids at our ministry, but that’s it.  

But on this very morning, as I was struggling to understand what God was doing with me, she received this word from Him for me…

“When you see yourself with too much responsibility and you look around and see the huge ministry that God has given you, and you begin to think that you are not prepared and that someone else could being doing it better, remember these words.  I AM THE GOD OF ABRAHAM, ISAAC, AND JACOB, AND I SAY TO YOU: I chose you.  I called you Sara.  I have prepared you. I have equipped you.  You will be the mother of many that I love.  And as you love them, they will experience my love as if I was wrapping them each in a hug.  I love and protect those than love and care for my orphaned sons and daughters.  YOU ARE CALLED SARA BECAUSE SINCE YOUR YOUTH YOU WILL BE THE MOTHER OF MANY!”

Wow.  That was all I could say as I read these words.  The tears had stopped because I physically was unable to produce more, but I was in shock.

I need you all to understand that I grew up in a very conservative, Southern Baptist church.  I never understood this business of having “a Word from the Lord.”  The only Word that I believed to be true was the Bible itself. But after living in another country for most of my adult life, I understand now that yes the Bible is the only inerrant Word of God.  Nevertheless, God does speak to us today, and we would be missing out big time if we ignored these words as well.  

Because how else do you explain a word that powerful and that timely from an almost stranger during the exact time of a major spiritual crisis?? 

Only God.  Only He can do the impossible.

I wish I could say that this opportune encouragement fixed it all for me.  I suddenly had all the answers, and I suddenly understood exactly what I had to do. 

No friends that did not happen.  

What did happen, though, was that I was reminded that God loved me. He loves me.  He lavishly loves me, and that He sees me.  My grief matters to him in that same way that my kids’ grief matters to me.  

Only it matters even more because He is not only my Father but also my Creator and nothing, nothing about me goes unnoticed.  

I can take my troubles and anguish to Him and not only will He comfort me as any good Daddy does, but He has the actual answers to my problems as well.  

It has taken me a couple of weeks to understand what was happening inside of me that day.  Even though I found comfort in the care of my good, good Father in heaven, I still didn’t understand what exactly I was supposed to do.  Knowing God loved me and was with me still didn’t answer my questions as to what I was being asked to do specifically.  

Was I ruining my children?  Could I still be in ministry and be a good wife and mother?  Was I even supposed to do both?  

It came slow but it came.  There is no formula, but as I just sat quiet and listened, the whisper came.

Trust.  He was asking me to trust Him.

He showed me that the last 2 years, I have desperately been trying to do everything physically in my power to protect my husband and our family and this ministry against unfair criticism or painful disparagement.  I overworked myself to make sure that the pain and betrayal we felt 2 years ago never happened again.  Without anyone’s permission, I propped myself up as the ultimate defender of my husband and his leadership and our ministry.  

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust my husband to do a good job. Truthfully, he has become a better leader than I could have ever imagined.  He is faithful, honest, just, generous, true, and lavishly loves his people and our kids.  God has taken him to heights I never thought possible.  Our ministry continues to grow and mature because my husband starts and ends every day the same, on his knees asking God to lead him so he can lead others well.  

No.  My self-imposed position as a Defender of All was from one thing: fear.  Fear of being hurt.  Fear of being abandoned.  Fear of being betrayed.  Fear of getting it wrong.  

So I worked too hard.  I spent too many day and night hours trying to find the right solutions. I attended every meeting, every conference, and every seminar.  If someone called and needed help, I was there.  I did everything physically possible to be in all places at all times so no one would have any reason to hurt us again with their words.  

Except guess what?!  Some people did anyway.  Why you ask? Because people are people…yesterday, today, tomorrow…people are still people.  The Israelites complained about Moses, David, and everyone in between.  The disciples heard it.  Paul was imprisoned over it.  And lest we forget, Jesus was killed because of it.  

Sometimes people criticize because they are right and something does need to change and as leaders we need to always be surrounding ourselves with people that will tell us the truth even when it hurts.  I love when Moses’ father in law gently tells Moses that he needs help.  He is trying to do too much.  Nathan did the same for David.  

But sometimes people criticize because they just are hurt or jealous or because they don’t have the whole story.  

In the end, it doesn’t really matter why they do.  What matters is that we have a choice in how we respond to it.  

I decided to work myself silly, hurting myself and my family in the process, in hopes that it could be avoided.  Some people get angry and lash out at others.  Some people get insecure and start making decisions just to please the majority.  Some just ignore it completely and continue on their merry way.  

The best leaders, though, I think learn how to receive it, chew on it, and swallow what is good and helpful and spit out that which was only said with intentions of tearing down and dividing.  

Good leaders understand that criticism is part of the package. We can’t run away from it, and we can’t even defend or protect ourselves against it.  But more than that, good leaders, and I would say good spouses, parents, teachers, friends, and neighbors also understand that we will never on this earth be everything to everyone.  We shouldn’t be.  We are getting it all wrong if we think we are.  

Only God can be their all.  

What God does is He invites us in.  We get to stop being spectators and get to start participating. We get to actually get sweaty and dirty and experience the thrill of the game.  But we also will get hurt.  We will be disappointed.  We will be offended. We will even mess up.  Some people may stop liking us in the process.  Some brothers and sisters in Christ may even walk away from us or turn their backs on us when we need them the most.  

But God won’t.  He doesn’t. He extended the invitation, so He will be right there with us the whole time.  We just obey. We just trust Him. We honor Him.  We look to please Him instead of man.   Along the way, we also learn to forgive and to be forgiven.  We understand what true transformation and restoration looks like.  

But this can’t happen until we say Yes…until we RSVP and tell Jesus we are all in.  We show up. We get it wrong and sometimes we get it right.  

I have been messing up big time.   I thought I could do it by myself.  I thought that I was strong enough, smart enough, godly enough, nice enough, and a plethora of other “enoughs.” But I am not.   And part of the consequences of thinking I was enough came in hearing some very painful words from my own children, and then having to look in the mirror and realize that not only were the words painful but they were true.  

I tried so hard to avoid giving anyone any reason to criticize when the most painful criticism of all came from my most beloved ones.  

But there is hope.  

I am Sara.  I was called by God.  I was chosen by Him.  He prepared me and equipped me.  He goes before me.   I am His and only His.  

He has called me by name.  Sara.  He loves me. He knows me.  He chooses me.  

And that, well, that is enough.  

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